


Waiting

by SCFrankles



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Community: watsons_woes, Gen, gentle humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 20:10:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7375735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCFrankles/pseuds/SCFrankles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes and Watson are watching and waiting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the June 2016 Prompt: Anticipation at [Watson's Woes](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/) on LJ. 
> 
> Holmes and Watson are the creations of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> * * *

Holmes and Watson were sitting huddled together.

Watson shifted awkwardly. “How much longer to wait?”

“Not too long now.” 

Holmes glanced back at the few scattered people seated behind them.

“Is she there?” whispered Watson.

“Not yet.” Holmes turned round again. 

Watson drummed his fingers on his knee. 

“Perhaps,” he said abruptly, “I should have brought my gun.”

Holmes looked at him. “I do feel in this situation a gun might be an overreaction.”

“I simply meant I might feel a little more confident with it!”

People were starting to look. Holmes patted Watson’s arm and leant closer. “You do not need the gun.”

There was a faint noise, and Holmes turned to see Lestrade and Gregson taking their places behind.

Holmes gave them a brief smile. “Thank you for coming, gentlemen. There weren’t many others we could ask.”

Lestrade raised an eyebrow at Watson, who was now staring fixedly ahead.

“Is the Doctor all right?”

“He’s fine,” said Holmes. “The waiting is beginning to tell and— Ah!”

Ahead of them, a man in vestments entered. 

The organ began to play, while behind them another door opened.

Holmes glanced round. 

And gave a reassuring smile to the newly arrived Miss Mary Morstan. 

Holmes turned back to Watson. 

“Do try and pull yourself together, old fellow,” he whispered. “Here comes your bride.”


End file.
